Still, the bolt could come in handy as an oversized spear. It’s unwieldy, but I nudge it to the inside of the monolith’s right leg, where I can grab it if I need it.
The men’s footfalls are much closer now, but they haven’t reached me yet, and in those few remaining moments, I prepare myself for what’s coming.
For the last ten years, I defended these humans against the monsters that rose in the wastelands.
If I thought they would simply let me leave, then I could allow them to live.
I exhale a deep sigh.
I’ve been wearing my final medallion on my left palm for several minutes now and in that time, I’ve stopped distinguishing its cold malice from my own intentions.
In the fight ahead, I can have no mercy.
Mercy will only result in my death and the Vandawolf’s end.
I plant my feet, ready the Vandawolf’s daggers, and count my heartbeats as the approaching footfalls draw closer.
Chapter3
Aman appears on each side of the monolith.
They move fast, dropping to a knee and aiming their crossbows at me.
It’s a reckless move since they could shoot each other.
Except that the man on my right adjusts his aim, pointing his crossbow to his left, at the monolith behind me. I don’t miss the way he’s searching the ground, no doubt looking for the Vandawolf.
At the same time, two other men join him, each taking a knee, also aiming their crossbows at the monolith.
Maybe their plan is for the men on my right to take out the Vandawolf while the men on my left try to kill me. Their crossbows won’t get through the shield I placed across the Vandawolf, and I don’t intend to let them get close enough to stab him.
The man on my left is already firing at me.
The bolt flies straight and true, its crimson tip glittering in the sunlight.
The metalworkers may have struggled to create weapons large enough to take down monsters, but they’re skilled at creating regular weapons for use in combat.
I drop and roll, narrowly evading the bolt. It hits the earth only inches away from my previous location.
The man who fired it is hurriedly reloading his crossbow. At the same time, the three other men who were approaching on that side appear beside him, quickly fanning out around him and shooting wildly.
A new rain of bolts flies toward me. I duck and roll again, and the bolts hit the earth in my wake.
Thud-thud-thud.
My path has taken me closer to them, although they’re all still ten paces away and busy trying to reload.
I’m not about to squander my chance to end them.
From my crouched position, I fling a dagger toward the chest of the man who fired first.
He moves at the last second and it misses his heart, hitting his shoulder instead. The force of my enhanced strength accelerates the dagger’s speed and the impact is so immense that it knocks him off his feet. He gives a shout and loses hold of his weapon, scrambling in the mud to pick it up even with the dagger jutting from his shoulder.
I would admire his determination if he weren’t my enemy.
My second dagger meets another man’s thigh—one of the men who was standing. He drops to the ground with a shout.
Leaping to my feet, I prepare to turn my medallion into a spear.
